Kingdom to Ash
by Diable Oni Giri
Summary: AU setting, ZoSan pairing. This is a tale of a kingdom that has long since fallen to ruin, haunted by the memory of a demon and the royal blood that stained his hands. But what really happened is a far more tragic tale lost to history.
1. Prologue

It was some time ago, they say, in a kingdom that has since fallen to ash. An island kingdom at the center of the sea, water so crystal clear you could see every rainbow-colored fish that swam beneath the waves. It was the crown jewel of that part of the world, boasting a thriving economy and elegant architecture. The king was a fair man and his subjects did not want for anything; even the poorest of them did not live a harsh life. The kingdom, known as I'lethadina, was considered a paradise in its glory, but now its ruins are avoided by all, its shores empty and its streets haunted with the echoes of the past.

Its downfall is a story written with steel and lace, demon blood and a forbidden romance.

So they say.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Welcome and thank you for reading! This is a AU story that is based on the unfolding events of an RP between a friend and myself. I have her permission to convert it into story format, but as it follows along with the RP, I can only go as fast as that is written out. So there won't be any set update schedule, I'm sorry to say, but I hope you keep up with it all the same!

* * *

"Sing, sing~!  
Hear the waves of the crystal sea Sing, sing, hoorah hoorah~!  
Hear the song of our I'lethadina!"

It was the melody that swam through the air on Festival-Festival, skipping over every cobble stone and around every lamp post like a vibrant streamer blowing in the wind. The summer sun smiled down on the festivities, the largest celebration of the year. The air was electric-alive with the music, the scent of fresh pastries and shish-kabobs and candy floss tickling every nose. It marked the anniversary of the island's founding and its prosperity. Lights on strings and banners were strung between every building along the stall-lined lanes, carts pulled by ponies full of wares moving up and down along them. Balloons and toys and candies for the children, ales and wines for the adults it was an event for all ages with shows and events to see, goodies to sample, and souvenirs to collect.

The last day of Festival-Festival drew the largest crowds with the most anticipated events. There was a grand ball held at the palace, a feast shared by all following it under the stars and a fireworks show. But before that came the Festival-Festival Tournament, in which the finest warriors would compete for the King's personal boon, a satchel of coins and a seat at the main table during the feast. While the sum was sizable and the seat was an honor, it was the prestige of winning that was considered the greatest prize.

So as the morning inched closer to noon, the last ship to bring revelers from the other islands did arrive, carrying with it in addition the rest of the hopefuls signed up for the tournament. Among them was a man a very unique man

"Name, sir," asked the tournament official signing in the participants.

"Asura."

The official looked up to put a face to the name. Before him stood a tall, well-built man boasting taught, tanned skin and short, cropped hair of a sea-green shade. An aura of confidence sat on his strong shoulders, but he was unassuming in his dress: a simple white tank top paired with black pants and nearly knee-height boots to match, a green haramaki around his waist, his only other adornments a black bandanna tired around his upper arm and a golden ear cuff with three tear-shaped bangles dangling down from it.

Up went the brows of the official as he noticed that the man had not one or two, but -six- sheathed katana on his hips, three to each side. Asura, as his name was, grinned a bit smugly: he was used to the surprised, questioning glances.

"I'm on the list, I assure you number seven," Asura added, tapping his finger on the list.

"Ah, forgive me so you are. Please, do join the others."

The competition pavilion was a oval plot of packed-down dirt with bleachers surrounding it, four flanking the longer sides for the general public, a separate one at the far end for the King and his family. The competitors were being gathered in a tent just to one side of the pavilion until the even could begin, some taking the time to stretch and warm up, others treating themselves to the provided refreshments.

Asura picked an empty bench nearest to the tent's entrance, crossing his arms over his chest and waited with sharp green eyes studying those around him. There were representatives of seemingly every style of combat: martial artists with bandage-wrapped hands, rogues with masks and hidden knives in their boots, proud knights of neighboring kingdoms clad in gleaming plate, rangers, monks, battle magi, beast-tamers, acrobats, summoners, and of course, swordsmen. These drew the most attention from Asura, as he was one himself.

He could already tell some of them there were a joke, brandishing poorly-forged blades to match their false sense of strength. Undisciplined, untrained muscle-heads looking to show off for the crowd and earn an easy and sizable sum of money to waste at the taverns later. Those men would be defeated easily enough, as would all the rest, he reasoned. Festival-Festival and the island-kingdom I'lethadina, were merely a stepping stone on the greater path he was following, a path that would lead him to one man and defeating _him_ would fulfill his dream, and his promise to-

"Six swords? Isn't that a bit much?"

Broken from his thoughts, the swordsman looked up, blinking as he found himself eye-to-eye with a curious girl. On a second glance, however, he realized she was not a child, but a short young woman. Certainly no taller than five feet, she seemed to be an energetic thing, vibrant teal-colored hair pulled back into a braid that ran down the length of her back, tied around a bladed silver hoop at the end. She wore black shorts and a tank top, matching leather bracers on her wrists and simple wooden sandals on her feet. Nails painted with teal and black and her lips tinted likewise, she was pointing to the swords on his hips.

"Huh?" Asura mumbled.

"Well, I mean you can only use two swords at once. Why would you need to carry around six?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Blinking at her again, he realized there were weapons laced to her back with silk ribbons. At the moment, he could only see the ends of them, a polished black steel with the hinting of leather grips. He would get a look at them when she turned around. Hopefully soon. He wasn't one for enjoying the extended company of strangers, especially of the female variety.

"If I were any one of those other fools, yes, two _would_ be enough."

"You can't mean to say you can wield more than two of those, you'd have to put one in your mouth to even use just three!" she laughed at the idea, even as she spoke it.

Asura only smirked a bit.

"I doubt I'll need to use more than one of my blades today."

"Yeah, a lot of these idiots just signed up on a drunken dare...easy pickings! But not _me_! I've been training hard for years for this! I came in third last year, big let down there but _this_ year, that prize is gonna be mine!" she nodded to him, quite sure of herself. "Those guys wave swords around just for show, but those you have there...they're master-made blades. I'm not gonna go easy on you, Mister Six!"

"Seven." he corrected. "My competition number is seven."

"Well, until they announce your name, I'm calling you Mister Six."

Stubborn about the point and not caring to hear any protest about it, she turned to go. Asura paid close attention then to the weapons that had eluded his view previously. They were a pair of elegant, matching sai that were well cared for, sharpened and polished, forged of a hard black steel. Not the strongest offensive weapon, the sai, but the hooked hilt was perfectly curved for wrapping around another blade and wrenching it from the opponent's hand. So the girl was short, and fast: she would take advantage of this in defeating those lager and slower than herself. She'd make to the last three or so rounds, he figured, if her boast wasn't false. Maybe even the final round to face him.

He stood, idly pondering if he would get the chance to use all of his swords. It had been quite some time since he'd had the need to draw more than one.

Not quite time for the tournament to begin, Asura decided he would explore the market lanes. He still had a few coins to his name and he could do with either a scrap of food or a cold drink at a tavern. Exiting the tent, he let his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight before setting out. His gait and stance as he wandered aimlessly spoke of a sleepy laziness that contradicted the swords he carried.

Earning a view stares while he poked around, he let his mind wander to the battles he would soon take part in. He would have to restrain himself, of course. It was a "friendly" exchange and inflicting grave injuries was frowned upon, let alone ending a life. It would be difficult. The blades hadn't tasted fresh blood in some time.

"Suuuuuge~! Those swords are so cool!"

For the second time that day, the swordsman was broken from his thoughts by an unexpected blurt from a stranger. He had been pondering a stand selling meat kabobs, thinking it would a perfect snack before the tournament began. Asura turned and was greeted by a bouncy teen in a red cloth vest, blue shorts, a crown of messy black hair topped by a straw hat, and an infectious smile. Briefly he got the mental image of a hyper monkey and he couldn't help grinning.

"Er, thanks kid."

"Can you use all of those at one time?" the teen asked, eyes wide with clear eagerness.

"I can."

His delighted grin somehow managed to widen and he hopped up with a hoot of laughter. Asura didn't exactly understand why, but this teen's company was enjoyable.

"My name's Luffy! Monkey D. Luffy!" offered the teen, extending his hand.

"Asura." the swordsman nodded, shaking Luffy's hand.

"I haven't seen you here before, are you here from another island?"

"Yeah. For the tournament."

"Suuuuuge~! You're gonna fight? I definitely gotta see it now! It's soon, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh. I just wanted to get something to eat before it starts."

"Oooh that's a good idea. You gonna get one of these? They're really really good!"

The man behind the stall was keeping a sharp eye on Luffy, his arms crossed over his chest with a scowl.

"You better pay if you want some this year, kid," he grumbled, earning a look from Asura.

Luffy pouted, pulling his empty pockets inside out. "Oh c'mon, I only did that once "

"You ate ALL the meat I had when I wasn't looking, you scamp!" retorted the man.

Asura laughed heartily, handing over the last of his coins with two fingers held up. "Two kabobs."

Luffy lit up brightly, hopping up and down excitedly when the swordsman handed one to him, downing it in a blink of the eye. Asura was a bit surprised at the speed, not even having taken a bite of his own.

"That was really good, Asura! Thanks! But I can't pay you back."

"Eh," Asura shrugged. "I'll have plenty of gold when I win the tournament. Don't worry about it."

"Hehehe! I can't wait to see! I bet you'll have no prob-"

Luffy's excited chatter was cut off by the blare of trumpets back at the pavilion, announcing the beginning of the tournament. Asura handed his own untouched kabob to him and took the bandanna from his arm, tying it around his head. It cast shadows over his eyes, giving him a more threatening appearance.

"Gotta run. See ya." he nodded, taking off down the lane at a sprint.

"I'll be cheering ya on~!" Luffy called energetically, waving his free hand with the kabob full in his mouth.

As he ran through the thinning crowds back to the pavilion, Asura began to hear familiar, soft-spoken voices. He shook his head, needing to be rid of the noise...now wasn't the time for their senseless babble. It was always the same, anyway.

'You'll get your blood soon enough,' he thought, the promise quieting them for the time being.


	3. Chapter 2

"Ladies and gentleman! Let the Festival-Festival Tournament begin!"

Cheering erupted loudly from the stands, feet stomping and clapping and whistling as the announcer opened the tournament.

"Our first round is between Brawler Boris and Urakeshi Tenma!"

Asura arrived just in time to see the two men enter the field, taking his place among the other waiting contestants standing along the sidelines. He spotted the girl he had met earlier a ways up nearer to the royal stand, letting his gaze flicker up from her to examine the king and his family.

At the center, of course, was the king. Still handsome despite his age., he had hair that was fading to a fine silver, once having been a light brown. Sitting to his right was a very pompous, proper-looking woman with plump cheeks and a disapproving scowl, blonde hair tied back in a tight bun: the queen. Asura's nose curled at the sight of her, not liking her in the least. But his sharp gaze caught a glimpse of blue silk moving behind her seat. The swordsman narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look at the person obscured behind the queen, not getting much more for his efforts. Shrugging it off, he crossed his arms and decided to watch the current match

Boris was as his title suggested, a large man with brass knuckles and a look that suggested he'd just come from a tavern from the rougher part of town. Tenma, on the other hand, was a scrawny thing with white bandages on his hands and bags under his eyes. While Boris swung hard, Tenma easily ducked away and would throw jabs and chops at various key points on the other man's body. Asura yawned.

"Eager to fight, yessss..?" hissed a voice beside the swordsman.

Hidden in a black cloak, the figure beside Asura was looking up at him, only a sharp, yellowed grin visible. Snorting, he didn't grace the other with a reply, again turning his attention to the fight just as it concluded with Tenma dropping Boris like a sack of bricks with a well-timed jab of the heel of his palm into the other's jaw. While medics ran out to remove Boris from the field, the crowd cheered in congratulations to Tenma, the man giving a grateful bow before striding to the sidelines.

There was a clear advantage to not going in the first few rounds. While others fought and were eliminated, Asura was able to gauge every one that made it past their first bought. Some were reliant on their agility, others were just unmovable walls of muscle. The beast tamers amused him with the flamboyantly-colored creatures they brought with them. Impressed slightly to see that one of the rangers was able to win without using their bow.

Soon enough he himself got to join in, called in by the announcer. He was pitted against a man who looked like one of his parents might have been a bull, even having a golden ring in his nose, snorting with a smug grin at his smaller opponent. Asura matched the expression, drawing one of the six blades, pointing the tip of the pure-white katana at the bull-man.

It could hardly be called a match, it was over so quickly. The other man charged him headlong, likely planning to throw him to the ground utilizing his greater weight and size. Asura sidestepped and a vicious knock to the back of the head with the hilt of his katana sent him tumbling into the dirt, the strike causing him to black out.

"Tsk what a waste of time," he snorted, sulking back to the sidelines.

The crowd took a long moment to catch up, bursting into cheers while the medics did their best to drag the large, unconscious man off to the infirmary tent. There were still quite a few preliminary matches left until the next wave, so Asura decided to take the time to get a drink back in the competitor's tent. It seemed this was an idea shared by quite a few, he found, as most of those moving on to the next round were there.

Taking his seat by the entrance again, he let his mind wander off while he rested his eyes. The voices of the others only barely masked over the quiet murmuring only he was aware of. They were longing for more, the brief encounter with the bull-man had only served as a tease, making them even more restless than they had been. His brows twitched and knit as he focused, striving to quiet them once again.

Someone sat beside him with a "thump" sometime after. He looked over and found that it was the teal-haired girl with the sai, grinning at him.

"Hey there, _Asura_!" she grinned, having gotten his name from the announcer. "We made it to the next round!"

"Ah, congrats," he muttered to her. "I missed your round."

"Oh that's alright," the girl waved it off before extending her hand to him. "The name's Fukaji, since you probably missed that too."

"Nice to meet you." Asura shook her hand.

"So! What's the name of that sword you used?" Fukaji inquired. "I only got to see it for a few seconds, like seeing a flash of white light."

The swordsman pulled the mentioned blade into his lap, a hand moving with surprising gentleness over its sheathe.

"This is Wado Ichimoji," he said, smiling. "She belonged to a dear friend of mine."

Fukaji looked it over with wide eyes.

"No way, that's a meitou!" she breathed with reverence. "A legendary blade...I've only read about some of them, but that _has_ to be one! I've never seen a sword that finely crafted "

Asura smirked with pride. "Wado was the first one I received."

"First? You can't mean you have more than just one meitou blade?"

"Two others, in fact."

"Fwah! You're crazy! You have three meitou katana?" she shook her head in disbelief.

"I do," he nodded, counting them off on his hand. " Wado, Shuusui, and Yubashiri."

"So the other three are just regular katana?"

"They're hardly regular."

Before the girl could squeeze in any more questions, the trumpets blared again and the crowd reached another level in their excited pitch: the second wave of fights was about to begin. Hopping off the bench, Fukaji dashed out of the tent, heading for the sidelines.

Asura adjusted his bandanna and returned Wado to his hip, looking at it pensively for a long moment before stepping out himself. Hopefully, the event would pick up...he was getting bored.


	4. Chapter X An Author's Note

Dear Readers,

I do not know that any of you may get this, as I have let this poor story fall off the side for almost a year now. For this I apologize, but I have gone through a lot these past months and am just now finding the time and drive to work on my writings again. Thus I will be reworking this story and republishing it. I hope that you will read the new version and follow along as it updates.

Thank you for your time and readership, it is precious to me.

Signed,

Diable Oni Giri


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